The Monument

The Monument

[Busta Rhymes]
  Yeah, yeah yeah now, what the fuck now?
  Flipmode Wu-Tang shit, what the fuck now?
  Yeah yeah yeah..
  Historical and monumental shit
  What the fuck now? Yeah, yeah, yeah
  Straight smack a nigga right in the face like this was handball
  Or make a mural out his face up on a damn wall
  Niggaz play hard and shit; if you know what’s best for you
  y’all niggaz better safeguard your shit
  Even though we rep brass knuckle rap
  Fuck with street geniuses and bowlegged chicks who walk with a gap
  Street niggaz now the corporate boss
  Still go to y’all resteraunt for steamed fish and Irish moss
  And y-yo, the way we do it and you see how my shit bomb
  Your whole show wack and I’ma cancel your sitcom
  Fuck a nigga broad ’til she tired and real calm
  You ain’t knowin my name tattoed on your bitch arm
  The way we blow SHIT is a shame
  Casually bust my gun and celebrate bustin a cork on the champagne
  Wrote you with a whole new approach that lead a whole team of niggaz
  Y’all should know I only ball like a coach, NOW!
  [Raekwon the Chef]
  Check out the light fixture, freak lines like white bitches
  Let the mic lines – hang that slang is ridiculous
  Emperor of warlords, big gun only fuck with sawed-offs
  That’s my specialty, more to bust
  Shot out my bed parrot keep it gangster Lord
  I analyze your work those that got merked were not established
  Texture look classy, arm baby 2000 raspberry
  S-5, blowin through Asbury
  Soon to own steakhouses, glowin like makeover thousand
  Them them niggaz, robbin from Pinkhouse’s
  Show and prove, knockin off cab drivers
  God, sodomize money, ring two hundred thousand
  See the color of the carved out Wu emblem
  Baby, it’s all designers, tailor-made Wu gooses
  Limousine, automatic new uzi’s in ’em yo
  Relax, cousin just cruise through, jewels with him
  Move up the block, giant box blast my song
  Non-stop strictly hip-hop, march on
  Doo-rag hang long, metal tape is high-bias
  Graphics, captured with the colorful, iris
  I zoom in, while the listeners tune in
  Some assumin they paid dues and joined the union
  Lost nigga couldn’t rumble in this wild jungle
  Quick to crumble, type to be on the stand and fumble
  Divine Master, threw on the track that made ’em bleed
  He produce at unattainable rains of top speed
  This powerful magnet, that left ’em stagnant
  was unlikely in cameras in larger fragments
  Un-filled rifle, scout sniper, shots precise
  Starlight scope, with the night vision device
  Splendid marksman, that’ll shoot the one off the dice
  Split a grain of rice, in one shot we kill ’em twice

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